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Updated: June 13, 2025
A hint of another woman would settle his chances of winning her. I can give her that. I'd like to. A woman of her stamp has no business marrying." She mused a few minutes over her own statements, while Curran stared. He began to feel that the threads of this game were not all in his hands.
Curran describes the traveling eunuch-makers in Central India, and remarks upon the absence of death after the operation, and invites the attention of gynecologists and operators to the successful, though crude, methods used.
You may make white curran wine the same way, only leave out the rasps. To make CHERRY WINE.
In discussing injuries of the vagina, the first to be mentioned will be a remarkable case reported by Curran. The subject was an Irish girl of twenty. While carrying a bundle of clothes that prevented her from seeing objects in front of her, she started to pass over a stile, just opposite to which a goat was lying.
There was no change in the priest's expression or manner, no starting, no betrayal of feeling. Keeping his eyes on the detective's face, he repeated the name as one utters a half-forgotten thing. "Why has that name a familiar sound?" he asked himself. "You may have read it frequently in the papers at the time Horace Endicott disappeared," Curran suggested.
Although robustious, our fribbles were harmless enough ebullitions of animal spirit, sometimes perhaps of gaiety unguarded though each shade, treading the Celestian way, as most of them do, and recurring to those Noctes Ambrosianæ, might e'en repeat to the other the words on a memorable occasion addressed by Curran to Lord Avonmore: "We spent them not in toys or lust or wine; But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence and poesy Arts which I loved, for they, my friend, were thine."
She threw him a kiss from her pretty fingers, and gave a sidelong look at Curran. "There's a devil in her," Arthur thought. "The will was very correct and very sound," resumed the detective. "No hope in a contest if they thought of such a thing among the West ... the Jones'. The heirs took pity on her, and gave her a lump for consolation. She took it and cursed them for their kindness.
Did you have to say, "Your Majesty"? Jimmie gripped his hands under the bed-covers. "I'll be damned if I do!" He summoned his revolutionary fervour, he called up the spirits of his "wobbly" friends, "Wild Bill" and "Strawberry" Curran and "Flathead Joe" and "Chuck" Peterson. What would they do under these circumstances? What would the Candidate do?
"She has begun her descent into hell," he said placidly, "but since you are with us still, I shall give her plenty of time to make it. What I am surprised at is that you did not understand what my entrance meant. She understood it. She thought Curran was due as her witness of the assault.
Jimmie was honest, he was trying to face the facts as he saw them; and when he stopped to think, when he remembered the things he had done in company with "Wild Bill" and "Strawberry" Curran and "Flathead Joe" and "Chuck" Peterson, he could not deny that he had been, however unintentionally, helping the Kaiser to win the war.
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